


All We Are

by MeghanAnna



Series: Modern Love [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, SO MUCH FLUFF, i love it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3978817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Everyday is a start of something beautiful, something real. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Three times in three days, Bellamy and Clarke meet by accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is tempting for me to continue. At least one more chapter. It's based off of lyrics from my FAVORITE song. We'll see, though. But... It's likely.
> 
> Rated General for now, but would probably go up if I continued.

It was going to rain and Bellamy knew it the second he stepped outside on the sidewalk. He needed to get a run in, even if it was short lived and rained out. He hadn’t had time to run in weeks and once he finally did, he was going to take advantage of it. But first, he saw her. 

She was in blue scrubs with a white zip-up hoodie on over them. She clearly had not been to sleep yet and it was a wonder she was holding herself up at all. But Bellamy couldn’t look away. Her hair fell in blonde waves over her shoulders and even though her eyes were so intent on the ground, he knew they were beautiful. He only stopped staring at her when she pulled her hand out of her pocket and a piece of paper fluttered behind her.  

“Excuse me,” he called out, jogging after her so he could pick up the paper. She stopped, confused, and turned toward him. Up close, she looked even more exhausted but when he smiled at her, her features softened. “You dropped this.” 

She took the paper out of his hand and opened it before letting out a relieved sigh and stuffing it back where it came from. “Thank you,” she smiled softly.  

“You’re welcome,” he nodded and she hesitated a second before smiling again and turning away. He stayed stuck in his spot, watching her turn the corner, until the sky opened up and the rain fell. It looked like he wouldn't get a run in after all. He didn’t mind. 

\-- 

Clarke was kind of over her overnight shifts at the hospital. She missed her normal sleep schedule. She missed the daylight. Walking into a café before work had a very different effect when it was already dark outside. Apparently, people are even worse to baristas once the sun’s gone down. 

“Shut up and get me my coffee,” the person in front of her said as soon as she was in line behind him. Clarke was typically a silent bystander. She didn’t get involved in other people’s problems, but the look on the girl’s face behind the counter fell from stony annoyance to offended pain. It didn't last long before her features hardened again and she threw a dirty look at the man one last time before going to make his coffee, but Clarke saw it. And she didn't like it. 

"You can't talk to her like that," she nearly yelled and it seemed like all the sound in the café ceased at once as every face turned to look at her. Every face except the one she was talking to. All she could see when she looked at him was his head of dark curls, a blue button up shirt, and a brown leather messenger bag slung across his back. "Just because she makes your coffee doesn't give you the right to be an asshole." 

"It's okay," the girl behind the counter insisted, standing on her toes so she could see over the machines between them. "He  _is_ an asshole and he knows it. Really, I'm fine." 

"It's not okay," Clarke insisted, running her hands through her hair. "He has-" 

She stopped abruptly when the man in question  _finally_ turned to face her. It was the runner she'd seen the day before. The one that stopped her and gave her the piece of paper she kept in her pocket day in and day out. Even then, she was fingering it, wearing the edges down even more than they already were. All sense of fight left her when his face softened and the girl behind the counter only looked confused. 

" _You,"_ he said slowly and she sighed before nodding. "You're right, or you would be, but that's my sister and you have  _no_ idea what you're getting in the middle of." 

Clarke almost shrunk in embarrassment. Of course they knew each other. She’d been in that café a thousand times and, though she didn’t know the girl behind the counter on a personal level, she knew her well enough to know she could stand up for herself. But she didn’t this time because _of course_ it was her older brother talking to her—something she’d clearly gotten used to over twenty some odd years.

“I’m-“ she sputtered, looking between the siblings. The girl was smirking as she finished her brother’s drink. The boy— _man_ —was waiting for her with a very patient look on his very handsome face. She’d noticed it the day before, how good looking he was, but that was at the end of a shift when she had no more energy. This time, she was fresh out of bed; she was as energetic as she would be all night. And she was not blind to his good looks. “Sorry,” she finished lamely.

“No,” he shrugged easily, glancing back at his sister. “It’s nice to know someone will stand up for her when someone else is being an ass.”

“Even when you’re the ass, big brother?” The girl asked and Clarke finally cracked a smile when she saw his face fall and his eyes flutter shut in embarrassment.

“Even then,” he admitted and Clarke’s smile widened. He turned around and grabbed his coffee before adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, O.”

“Whatever you say,” she smiled and he turned toward Clarke again.

“Have a good night at work,” he said with a nod and she nodded silently in return. She watched him leave the café with one last glance over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or his sister, but she didn’t really care; she was going to pretend it was her.

“What can I get you?” The girl—Octavia, she now noticed from her nametag—asked. There was a smile in her voice that Clarke saw for herself when she finally turned back to face her.

“Large black coffee, two sugars,” she mumbled and she wasn’t proud of herself for looking over her shoulder to hope for one last glance, but she did it anyway.

“What’s your name?” Octavia asked, calling her attention again and Clarke shook her head at her own lameness.

“What?” She asked, brows furrowed and the girl just smiled again.

“For the cup?” She clarified, tapping it with the end of a marker.

“Oh, uh, Clarke,” she answered. “With an ‘e’ at the end.”

“Clarke with an ‘e’ at the end,” Octavia nodded as she wrote it down. “It’ll just be a minute.”

Clarke nodded and went to the end of the counter to lean against the window. She silently berated herself for getting involved and then again for not being able to say anything real to the person she yelled at.

“He’s not _actually_ an asshole,” Octavia said when she showed up with her coffee and Clarke pushed herself to stand straight again. “I just told him about the guy I’m seeing. The much older guy he doesn’t approve of even though he’s never met him. But he’s not an ass; he’s just protective. And he’s stressed. He’s working tonight, too. And he worked all day. Teacher,” she finished with a shrug and Clarke nodded in understanding. “Finals to grade, you know?”

“I’m sorry for getting involved,” she told her and Octavia shrugged easily. “It was none of my business.”

“Hey, no, if it were anyone else telling me to shut up and make me their coffee, I would really appreciate it,” she promised. “But it seemed like you two know each other… And I’ve never heard of a _Clarke_ before.”

“We don’t,” she explained and Octavia just narrowed her eyes in suspicious disbelief. “Yesterday morning, on my way home from work, I passed him on the street. He stopped me when I dropped something that means a lot to me. I said thank you and that was that. I’ve never met him before that. I haven’t even officially _met_ him.”

“You should,” Octavia smiled again and Clarke laughed. “Seriously. Give me your number, I’ll give it to him. He doesn’t usually have a thing for blondes, but I think I saw him making an exception this time around.”

“You’re crazy,” Clarke laughed and she just shook her head. “And anyway, I believe in the rule of threes.”

“I… Don’t know what that means,” Octavia admitted and Clarke nodded quickly, leaning down so her elbows were against the counter. She was thankful it was dead inside the café, and that the hospital was right around the corner, because she wasn’t quite ready to leave the conversation. She liked Octavia and she didn’t even know her.

“So, it’s this theory I have,” she explained and Octavia nodded for her to continue, perching on the edge of the counter. “No rash decisions. I won’t make any moves until I’ve met someone at least three times.”

“You must not go on a lot of dates if you’re playing by those rules,” Octavia pondered aloud, not unkindly.

“Or I’ve been burned so much because of my rash decisions and it’s time to try something new,” Clarke shrugged, standing tall again. “Either way, it’s keeping me in line.”

“I like you,” Octavia told her suddenly. “Are you sure you don’t want to give me your number? Bellamy would be lucky to get a date,” she said and Clarke smiled, but shook her head. “His loss, I guess. He’ll just sit at home with his dog, Gus, every night for the rest of his sad, lonely life.”

“Gus? As in Augustus?” Clarke asked, curiosity piquing and Octavia nodded with a look of wonder.

“How’d you know that?” She asked, sliding off the counter to wipe it down with a rag.

“Augustus had a sister,” Clarke smiled, pointing to her nametag and her jaw dropped in delight.

“He’d be so turned on right now if he could hear you talking like that,” Octavia told her and Clarke laughed. “Seriously, he’d be halfway in love with you already.”

“We’ll see what fate has in store for us, then,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “I should go. It was really nice talking to you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Octavia smiled. “See you soon.”

“You will,” Clarke promised.

\--

Bellamy only had one more stack of finals to grade, but he had to get away from them. He needed to get away from Gus and his loud snoring. He needed to get out of his apartment and go anywhere else. The night before, after being yelled at by arguably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he spent the entire night grading. He was up well past midnight grading fifteen page papers and he was tempted to give the other thirty students Bs just so he didn’t have to read anymore. But he wasn’t that kind of teacher. He liked to think he was good, that he was fair. At least he liked the topic he was forced to read about sixty times over.

The bookstore probably wasn’t the most original idea for a high school teacher to wander into on a Saturday night, but he didn’t care. He needed something to read for fun once grading was finally done. Summer break was right around the corner and he didn’t have many plans. His bookshelf was full of books he’d read in summers past. He needed something new. Plus, it was the one place he knew he wouldn’t run into any of his students. Not on a Saturday night. Not when summer vacation was so close they could taste it.

He wandered through the history section, then the biography section, picking up three books in the process, before stepping into the first row of fiction. He glanced over the new titles as he walked by, stopping at the end of the aisle when he saw a familiar blonde head down at the other end of the store.

For the first time, she wasn’t wearing scrubs, but was in a pair of jeans—torn at the knees and rolled at the ankle—and a long-sleeve Henley that happened to match the one he was wearing. Hers just happened to be tighter and a slightly lighter blue.

Again, just like the first time he’d seen her, he was stuck in his spot staring at her. The night before wasn’t a proud moment for him, being caught by a pretty stranger for yelling at a barista. Yes, it happened to be his little sister, but how would anyone else know that? He knew better than that, but it was difficult to keep his cool sometimes. He was a big brother first. Always.

He wasn’t proud again, when she turned with a book in her hands and found him staring at him. But then, she smiled, one hand sliding into her pocket before coming out quickly. He smiled back, unable to stop himself, and they began walking toward each other. She waved. He waved back. And then she laughed. Giggled, almost, but it was more than that. She was honestly amused with the situation at hand.

“ _You_ again,” he said and she nodded, putting her hands and the book in them behind her back.

“Clarke,” she corrected and he nodded, scratching his chest between the open buttons of his shirt. “Bellamy, right?”

His eyes narrowed and his hand fell, but he nodded. “How did you know that?” He asked and for a split second she looked embarrassed, like she’d said too much.

“Um, your sister told me,” she said sheepishly and he nodded. Of course she and Octavia talked about him after he left. He would have done the same thing in her position. “I like her. She’s great.”

“She’s okay,” Bellamy lied, smiling, and she laughed. “I hope you know that I’m not- that I don’t _try_ to be an asshole.”

“Don’t worry, she convinced me of that,” Clarke promised and he sighed, nodding. For some reason, he cared what this stranger thought about him.

“I’m almost tempted to ask what else she said about me, but I’m not so sure I want to know,” he admitted and she shrugged, biting her bottom lip. It made him a little weak in the knees.

“All good things,” she promised and he laughed, looking her up and down. He couldn’t help himself. The buttons of her own shirt were spread open and her pants sat perfectly on her hips. “We match,” she said suddenly and her eyes snapped back to hers.

“So we do,” he smiled, pretending that was what he was just thinking. “Great minds,” he said, tapping his head and she laughed again. He was really starting to like that sound. “No work tonight?”

“I don’t actually work the night shift usually,” she admitted. “I switched with a friend for the week and now I’m starting back on days on Monday. I’m almost positive if I stayed home any longer, I’d be passed out in front of my TV right now. My sleep schedule is all out of whack.”

“So, you’re forcing yourself to wander around the bookstore to keep awake?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow and she shook her head.

“This is my happy place,” she admitted with a shy smile before nodding to the pile of books he was holding against his hip. “Yours, too?”

“One of them,” he told her and her smile turned more confident before a yawn escaped between her lips. “You should go get some rest,” he offered and she looked like she was going to argue, but then she yawned again.

“I guess I should,” she sighed, twisting a piece of hair behind her ear. “I want to say I’ll see you tomorrow, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

Bellamy felt his face heat up and he thanked his tan skin for keeping most of his blush under wraps. She still caught it, though, and she looked so proud of herself. She should have been. It wasn’t every day Bellamy Blake found himself blushing.

“Or we could just… See each other on purpose?” He asked and she nodded, eyes sparkling. “I should be finished grading by six. Do you want to get dinner?”

It was Clarke’s turn to blush and it only made Bellamy’s stomach twist. She was _gorgeous_.

“I would really like that,” she said, putting her book down on a nearby shelf before crooking her finger at his stack. He laughed, but handed her one—a biography of Winston Churchill—and she smiled gratefully before reaching into her purse and pulling out a pen. He watched with great delight as she jotted her phone number down on the inside cover. “I hope you’re not super protective of your books,” she said, handing it back.

“No, I like them to look like they’ve actually been read,” he promised and she smiled before dropping her pen back into her bag. “And even better if they have a girl’s number in them.”

“I bet you’ve got a whole shelf of ‘em,” she teased and he shook his head slowly, seriously. Her own face turned serious before erupting into another smile. “I should go. Before I fall asleep in public and you change your mind.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised and she nodded before brushing past him, her hand lingering on his shoulder as she went. He turned to watch her walk away—again—and when she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, she waved and he had a feeling it was more a beginning than a goodbye. It was the start of something beautiful, something real.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought the last chapter was fluffy, wait til you read this one. It's so FLUFFY. I'm never this fluffy, but something's come over me and it probably attributes to the song that started it all.

A date. Clarke barely remembered how to date. Ever since the debacle with Lexa, she’d enacted her rule of threes and no one had made it that far. Then… Bellamy happened. He showed up one morning when she was miserable and he gave her back the one thing she didn’t want to live without. If she’d gotten home to find that the piece of paper she kept on her all the time was missing, she’d have been heartbroken. Inconsolable. But Bellamy was there. He saw her drop it. He gave it back to her and he smiled at her and she wasn’t so miserable anymore.

But then she saw him again. And again. And she liked him. She liked him more than she’d liked anyone in a long time and they’d barely even spoken. She was sure she’d shared more words with his sister than with him, but all those words were about him and she liked what she heard. So, when he asked her out, the answer was obvious. He was nice, he had a smile that made her knees weak, he was beautiful. Plus, he was a teacher and that just brought up all kinds of dirty fantasies she attributed to her rule of threes—no sex until the third date. And, as mentioned before, no one had made it that far since the rule was put in place.

Her date outfit was simple—a black skirt and a red top with a pair of flip flops. It was simple, but it was nothing if not flattering. The skirt had a slight flare to it that billowed out when she twirled. Not that she was planning on twirling, but she like the feature nonetheless. The top had a deeper neckline than most of her other shirts, but it was a _date_ shirt, so it was fitting.

When her phone dinged with a text message, she nearly tripped over herself in haste. She knew it was Bellamy, right on time, but she still got butterflies in her stomach when she saw his name on the screen. She told her to text him when he was outside, so they didn’t have to deal with the doorman. She threw a light sweater in her purse before running out of her apartment and down the stairs to the lobby. As soon as she slowed down on the shiny tile floor, she saw him with his back to the doors and his hands in his pockets.

He was wearing dark jeans and an untucked button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair was tamer than the last time she’d seen him at the bookstore, but still curly, still adorable. He was tall. She liked that he was tall. She liked that he was waiting so patiently.

“He won’t wait forever, Griff.” Clarke turned toward one of her building’s doormen with a sheepish smile. “Stop staring at him and live your life. It’s been _a while_.”

“You know what, Joey? Shut up,” she said with a smile and he came from around the desk and pushed her out the door. She stumbled over her own feet and landed against Bellamy’s back. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” she said, standing up quickly as he turned around with a smirk.

“You alright there? Got a little excited for our date, did you?” He asked and his stupid, adorable smirk only deepened before it turned into a genuine smile.

“I just… Forgot how to walk,” she lied before throwing a hard stare over her shoulder at the retreating doorman. “How are you?” She asked, flattening her palms over her skirt to move on from the incident.

“I’m great,” he promised, looking her up and down. He’d done it the night before, too, and just like then, her heart skipped a beat and her stomach twisted. “How are you?” He asked when his eyes settled back on hers. If she didn’t know any better, she swore he sounded a little worked up.

“Great,” she agreed smugly and he looked down at his feet, embarrassed. “Should we go?”

“Yeah, I’ve got plenty more planned than just staring at each other outside of your building,” he said, gesturing for her to go first. When he fell into step next to her, he placed a hand on the small of her back.

“It wouldn’t be the worst date I’ve been on,” she promised him and laughed. “Maybe even one of the best.”

\--

Bellamy was all out of sorts. It had been a while since he’d been on an actual date. He remembered how to do it, but he didn’t remember how he was supposed to feel. Because he didn’t think it was supposed to feel like he’d known Clarke for years, like he could stare at her for hours without getting bored. He wasn’t supposed to feel like that because if anyone had ever admitted something like that to him, he would have punched them in the face. Bellamy didn’t get gooey feelings and nervous stutters. He didn’t moon over women with blonde hair, blue eyes, and the most adorable beauty mark above her lip. He didn’t moon over women. Period.

At least he never had before.

But as they walked down the street, his hand still on her back—he couldn’t stop himself from looking over at her every few seconds. He couldn’t keep the smile off his lips when he caught her looking back at him.

“So, I hope you like pizza,” he said and she nodded enthusiastically. “Good. And don’t worry, I’m not taking you to some greasy sub shop. Although, I’m a fan of those as well.”

“I’m open to anything,” she told him and he let out a sigh of relief. She was pretty and she was low maintenance—not what he originally thought, but extremely good to know.

“Good,” he nodded, taking his hand from her back so he could scratch the back of his neck. “That’s good to know.”

She looked at him then, head on, not covertly like they’d been doing all along. And he turned his head slowly to meet her eyes, eyebrow raised. “I need to be honest with you,” she started and he sighed. She was going to tell him that she had a complicated ex that she was trying to make jealous. She was going to say that she was moving in a couple of days to do Doctors Without Borders. She was going to admit that Octavia paid her to go out with him because he was just _that_ pathetic.

“Okay?”

“I haven’t done this in a while,” she said quietly and his eyes widened. “Dated. It’s been, like… I don’t know, a year? A little over, maybe.”

“Oh,” he said and this time, his sigh was one of relief. “That was a lot better than I was expecting. You scared me there for a second.”

She laughed nervously and pushed her hair out of her face. “I just, I might be a little off tonight and I wanted you to know it has nothing to do with you,” she explained. “You’re good. You’re _great_. I’m just kind of freaking out.”

“I _am_ great,” he agreed and she laughed again—less nervous, more honest. “But, I haven’t done this in a while, either. I’ve actually always hated dating.”

“Oh my god, me too!” She said, grabbing onto his forearm with another laugh. “Seriously, I always jump into things so quickly just so I can skip this part. I _hate_ this part.”

He smiled and she relaxed, leaning into him as they continued down the street. “It doesn’t suck so far,” he said quietly, leaning his mouth closer to her ear. From the corner of his eye, he could see the smile on her face.

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. It sounded like a promise.

\--

Clarke _loved_ pizza. She especially loved it when it had crazy toppings you’d never think to put on pizza with crust that tasted like garlic. She was in pizza heaven and she just so happened to be sitting across from the hottest angel she’d ever seen in her life.

“So, you’re a doctor?” Bellamy asked after following a bite of pizza with a sip of beer.

“I am, yes,” she answered proudly. He nodded along with her, with an honest to god look of interest. “I work in pediatrics at the hospital downtown.”

“I could never do that,” he admitted and her brows furrowed as she leaned closer to him. “Sick kids. I’m not strong enough for that.”

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “But when there’s a happy ending, it’s _really_ happy. You know?”

He nodded and she smiled, taking a deep breath. “You’re a teacher?” She asked, obviously knowing the answer. She wanted to hear it from him, though, instead of his sister.

“Octavia told you?” He asked and she confirmed with a nod. Thankfully, he smiled and moved closer to the table. He looked excited to talk about it. “Yeah. High school history. It’s great. It’s even better because classes end this week and I’ve got three months of tutoring three days a week.”

“I believe you think it’s great,” she said, fingers practically twitching to touch his where the rested near her glass of wine. “But I think you like it more than you do summer vacation.”

“Oh do you?” He asked with a laugh and she nodded seriously. He considered her, considered his answer, and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. The summers are always so boring. I’m the only one of my friends who have them off for the most part. It’s why I was at the bookstore last night. I needed fuel to get me through the days.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she told him and he shrugged. She looked at him, remembered how she yelled at him a couple of days before, and had a hard time believing it. He wasn’t an asshole, just like his sister had promised. “You and your sister are close, huh?”

“She’s my favorite person in the world,” he told her. The pride and love in his voice was so genuine. “Do you have siblings?”

“No, it’s just me,” she shrugged, swallowing. She itched to reach into her purse to finger the piece of paper there, the one she always reached for when she talked about her family.

“It’s just me and Octavia, so we’ve always been close, especially since our mom died,” he told her, fingering his beer carefully. He said it so casually, like losing his mother was just another thing that happened to him—like getting a flat tire or a filling at the dentist. She could never do that.

“It’s just _me_. Literally, just me,” she said with a sad laugh and he looked at her so carefully. She felt like she’d breakdown if he kept looking at her like that—like he cared about her. “My dad died when I was 21 and I don’t talk to my mom anymore. So, just me,” she shrugged, looking down at her hands. Why were they talking about something so serious so early on? It was too much.

“That paper?” He asked and her eyes snapped back to his face. “The one I picked up? It’s from your dad, right? I didn’t open it or anything, but I could see he signed it. _Dad_.”

“Yes,” she nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath. Bellamy smiled at her softly and it gave her the courage to keep talking. “I was a junior in college and I was home for the summer, working at my mom’s practice. He _insisted_ on making my lunches every morning, just like when I was in high school, and every so often he left me a note. That’s the one he wrote on the day he died. I’ve had it ever since.”

“Wow,” Bellamy breathed. All of a sudden, his hand was on hers and she found herself linking their fingers together. It was comforting. It was nice. She nodded, smiling softly, and he squeezed her hand.

“You want to go back to staring at each other outside of my apartment? Remember how much fun that date sounded?” She asked with a nervous laugh and he chuckled. She’d expected him to drop her hand, but he kept it in his while he took a drink of his beer.

“It’s not a first date if you don’t talk about your dead parents, Clarke, come on,” he teased and she laughed again. Reluctantly, she took her hand from his so she could take a sip of her wine and run her hand through her hair. When he sat up, he put his hands in his lap and watched her. When he smiled, almost shyly, she couldn’t help but smile back.

\--

As they left the restaurant, Bellamy reached for Clarke’s hand. It wasn’t as smooth as he was hoping, but she didn’t pull her hand away or anything. In fact, she stepped closer to him and squeezed his quickly. It was nice. He liked nice.

“So, did you finish grading?” She asked him and he nodded. “Are your students going to be happy with their grades?” The laugh in her voice made him look at her. She was watching him, only looking in front of her when she felt like she needed to see where they were walking.

“Most of them will be,” he promised and she smiled, the tip of her tongue peeking between her teeth quickly.

“You’re a tough grader, aren’t you?” She asked and he laughed. “You are! I knew it…”

“I’m tough but fair,” he promised and she just rolled her eyes. “They all get what they deserve.”

“Sure, sure,” she laughed, teasing him, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her temple. It was a weird thing for him to do, but it also felt so natural. Easy. Right.

Clarke bit her bottom lip before turning to smile at him. Her head was tilted to one side and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He’d been planning on walking her back to her apartment. It was getting late and they both had work in the morning, but then he wasn’t quite ready to call it a night.

“Do you maybe want to get a drink? Right now?” She asked him as if she was reading his mind.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no teasing. He wanted to spend more time with her. He craved it, actually.

“Thank god,” she said quietly, laughing. “I know the perfect place.”

She pulled him down the sidewalk, excited all of a sudden, and he let his eyes wander over her. She really was something, even from behind. Maybe even especially from behind. But it was more than just looks. Whatever he was feeling, it was _real_ which was weird. He wasn’t as uncertain as he was at the beginning of the date, though. He was excited for where the night would take them.

She stopped abruptly outside a bar he’d never been in, but had walked by on occasion. She looked back at him with adorably raised eyebrows and he smiled, shrugging. She smiled triumphantly and continued pulling him inside, heading straight for the bar.

“I need to warn you,” she said, stopping in the middle of the room first. She turned toward him and stepped closer. Her free hand landed on his chest—just barely touching him—and he clenched his fist in his pocket to keep from pulling her closer. “I have a couple of friends that work here. And they’re going to ask questions. You don’t have to answer them. They’re obnoxious and you are more than welcome to ignore them.”

Bellamy laughed and she just looked at him seriously. “I think I’ll be fine,” he promised and she looked over her shoulder before stepping closer to him. “Though, it’s nice to know this is going well enough to be introduced to your friends.”

“Calm down, Romeo,” she laughed, hand now firmly pressed against his chest, fingers curling against him. “They just happen to serve the best margaritas in town.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, rolling his eyes and she pushed him lightly before continuing her trek toward the bar.

A small yet feisty looking brunette stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw them come close. “Who is this?” She asked Clarke, nodding right at Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” she answered, letting his hand drop self consciously. He grabbed hers again and noticed a slight flush of her cheeks when he stepped next to her. “This is Raven.”

“Hi,” he said and she narrowed her eyes at him before looking back at Clarke.

“He a friend of yours? Because, we’re friends and you don’t walk around holding _my_ hand,” she said and Clarke laughed, shaking her blonde hair.

“Maybe I would if you looked more like he did,” she offered, looking over at him as she nudged his hip with her own.

“Maybe,” Raven laughed. “What can I get you guys?”

Bellamy ordered a beer and Clarke ordered some kind of margarita with like three different fruit flavored alcohols in it. It sounded disgusting, but when she forced him to take a sip, it turned out being delicious. They found a table in a back corner, keeping themselves separated from the other groups of people. it wasn’t too crowded, since it was a Sunday, but there was a good amount of people scattered around.

“We talked a little about your sister, a little about our dead parents, so tell me about _you_ ,” she said once they were situated across from each other again.

Bellamy took a deep breath and thought through what he might tell her. His sister, his mother, his job—that was who he was. There wasn’t much more too him. But he had a feeling that if he said that, she’d fight him on it. “Well, I’m a teacher and I read a lot. I have a dog?” He tried and she laughed.

“Octavia told me,” she explained and he grunted. Of course she did.

“Seriously? How long did you talk to my sister? What else did she share?” He asked and she laughed, reaching for the hand on his knee under the table.

“She loves you,” she told him. “She just wanted to make sure I knew that you weren’t an asshole. And she was really trying to get my number for you. I think she thinks you’re going to die alone and Gus is going to eat you.”

“Wow,” he said, deadpan, and she laughed, throwing her head back. “That’s really specific. I should really keep up this dating thing to make sure that doesn’t happen. And wait a second! Why _didn’t_ you give her your number for me?”

“You had to work for it yourself!” She told him. “Your sister can’t do your bidding for you. And look how it turned out anyway. We’re here despite the fact I didn’t give it to her.”

Bellamy looked down at his hand on the table and ran his thumb over Clarke’s knuckles where they rested on his knee. They were there and it was great.

“Okay,” he relented and she smiled at him. “You’re right. We’re here all thanks to me.”

“I mean, she did help,” Clarke insisted and laughed when she saw the look on his face.

\--

When they were standing outside of her building again, Clarke took both of Bellamy’s hands in her own. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” she told him and he nodded in agreement. “I’m _really_ happy we did this.”

“Me too,” he said and for the first time that night his hand touched something other than her hand when it rested against her waist and stepped closer to her. “I’m really glad we ran into each other last night and I was _finally_ able to get your number.”

“You make it sound like we met a year ago instead of four days ago,” she laughed quietly. She let her hands fall onto his biceps and walked backwards until her back was against the cool brick of her building. “But I’m glad we ran into each other, too.”

He smiled, one of those shy little smiles she was getting used to, and took another step towards her. “We should do it again,” he said. “Take another stab at this dating thing.”

“Definitely,” she agreed and his smile turned more confident as it got closer to her own. She swallowed, nervous all of a sudden. He was right there and he was kind of wonderful and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. She just didn’t want it to be a terrible kiss because she didn’t want their night to be anything less than perfect.

He glanced down at her lips and his hands framed her face softly. She gripped her hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer by a fraction of an inch. When her eyes met hers again there was a question behind them. She nodded, barely perceptible if they weren’t so close, but he saw it and took advantage of it.

His lips were so much softer than she was expecting and his hair tickled her cheeks as he pressed against her. The hands on her face roamed lower on her body as his arms wrapped around her and her arms went around his neck. She stood taller, kissed him harder, and she remembered what it felt like to lose herself in someone. Not completely, not in a bad way, but in the perfect way that made you never want to stop falling. Bellamy was solid against her, he was soft towards her, and he kissed like a goddamn pro. She could get lost in him all night and she couldn’t help but imagine a string of upcoming nights ending similarly… Or even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started off so strong, but I feel like I kind of lost it by the end. Sorry about that. I hope you still like it, though! I may have one more chapter left in me before I move onto a new story. Thanks for reading!

Waiting for Octavia to get off of work so she and Bellamy could meet up with Lincoln for introductory drinks was exactly what he _didn’t_ want to be doing. There were so many other things he’d rather do, books he could read, blondes he could take out. But when that one, particular blonde sent him a text, he smiled. It was just a simple text asking if they were still on for the following night, but seeing her name pop up on his screen made him genuinely happy.

He sent her a quick text back, saying yes, they were on, and that he couldn’t wait. He almost fell out of his seat when he heard someone’s phone ding behind him. He was sitting at a table in the café with his back to the door and there was Clarke, reading his text with a small smile on her face as she moved toward the front of the line without paying much attention to her surroundings.

Bellamy stood up as quietly and carefully as he could, getting right behind her as she typed out her response. “Who are you texting? Is he dreamy? I bet he’s dreamy,” he said, leaning toward her and she nearly dropped her phone in surprise—and terror. The look on her face was priceless until she realized who was whispering in her ear and then, she laughed.

“Oh my god,” she said, turning toward him to slap him in the chest. “You’re an ass.”

“I know,” he shrugged, grabbing her wrist before her hand could fall back to her side. “And how are you?” His voice fell an octave and she stepped closer to him. He almost kissed her right then, but he stopped himself, not sure if they were at that point.

“Tired,” she sighed, fingers clutching the shirt on his chest as her eyes moved over his outfit. “You look good in your teacher clothes.”

“They’re the same as my normal clothes,” he laughed and she shook her head.

“You have a tie on,” she pointed out, bringing her other hand up to run her fingers over it. Bellamy sucked in a breath. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he shrugged and she tilted her head in a silent question. “I’ve got to go meet Octavia’s boyfriend.”

Clarke nodded in understanding and he finally let go of her wrist to scratch the back of his neck, but she didn’t take her hand off of him. He didn’t hate it. “That will be fun. You going out for drinks?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and she smiled before looking over her shoulder. Bellamy followed her line of sight and they both noticed Octavia watching them with amused interest. “Ignore her,” he said and Clarke laughed before dropping her hand.

“Well, I should let you go,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “She looks like she’s ready to leave and you’ve got places to go and boyfriends to intimidate.”

“That I do,” he smiled and she laughed again. As Octavia walked from behind the counter, Clarke stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Have fun,” she said softly and he nodded, smiling.

“Come with us,” Octavia said and Bellamy shot her a look. “We’re just going for drinks. You should come.”

“That’s okay,” Clarke promised, looking down at her scrubs and sensible shoes. “I’m beat. Plus, your brother’s seen enough of me the last few days.”

“Believe me, he likes it,” Octavia said and Bellamy sighed, grabbing her wrist to pull her toward the door. “We should hang out sometime, though. The four of us.”

“There’s only three of us,” Bellamy corrected her and she rolled her eyes, earning a laugh from Clarke.

“Lincoln, idiot,” Octavia said and he sighed again. He’d forgotten about him for a second.

He looked at Clarke with one hand on the door and the other still around his sister’s wrist. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He said and she nodded happily.

“Can’t wait,” she promised and he smiled before he and Octavia were on the sidewalk.

“You didn’t tell me you were _seeing_ that girl,” Octavia accused him, wrenching her wrist out of his grasp.

“We went out last night. I didn’t know she’d be here. I was going to tell you tonight since the two of you really seemed to hit it off the other day in my absence,” he promised and Octavia smiled.

“I like her,” she said.

“Yeah, I do too.”

\--

On her way down to the lobby of her building, Clarke stopped at a mirror near the stairs and checked her hair and makeup. She’d had a long day and when she got home from work, she looked like a mess. After a hot shower, she had to reapply and restyle. She looked better, she felt better, and she was excited to hang out with Bellamy again. Seeing him for the sixth day in a row was kind of crazy. She hadn’t even seen her friends that much since she’d started med school. But it was only their second date; every other day was just coincidence.

He was waiting inside this time, looking down at his feet while a new doorman stared him down. She smiled first at him, felt in her pocket for the note from her dad, and then continued her walk toward Bellamy. He looked up with a smile when he heard her coming and she stopped in front of him and kissed him.

She could tell he was surprised, but his hands found purchase on her waist and he pulled her closer as his lips began to move against hers. Clarke was slightly disappointed the night before when she ran into him and he didn’t kiss her. She understood it—they’d only been on one date and they hadn’t quite reached that level—but she wasn’t going to let him get away with it again. And he didn’t seem to mind as his hand began to roam lower around her back until it almost slipped into the back pocket of her jeans. It was then she knew she had to pull away before they went any further and the doorman got an eyeful.

“Hi,” he breathed when she dropped her hands to his shoulders and took a step back. He licked his lips and she almost catapulted herself against him again.

“Hi,” she smiled and he let out a deep breath. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said quickly and she laughed. “Seriously. Never apologize for that.”

“I just really wanted to do that,” she admitted. Her hands drifted lower to rest on his chest and her eyes ran down his face to pause at his lips before moving lower until she noticed what he was wearing. “Nice tie,” she quipped and he laughed, licking his lips again.

“Well, I aim to please,” he said and she smiled, stepping back from him completely.

“I appreciate that.” She offered him her hand and he took it with an easy smile. They walked outside together and she led them down the sidewalk. “How was Octavia’s boyfriend?”

“Annoyingly perfect,” he seethed and she laughed, looking over at him.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked. He sighed and shrugged. She reached for his bicep with her free hand and pulled herself closer to him. “Do you want him to be terrible?”

“I just wanted a reason to hate him,” he admitted. Clarke laughed, shaking her head, and he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t find one other than the fact he’s dating my sister.”

“The more you talk like this, the happier I am I’m an only child,” she teased and he finally smiled. He nodded and Clarke could tell he knew just how he sounded.

“So, where are we headed?” He asked, thankful for a valid excuse to change the subject, she was sure.

“Well, I was going to take you back to the bar, but Monty and Jasper are there and you really dodged  the bullet the other night,” she promised. “They ask _a lot_ of questions. Don’t get me wrong, they mean well, but it’d be a lot for a second date.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Then where are you taking me instead?”

“It’s called a surprise, Bellamy,” she sighed playfully. She was hoping answering his first question by not answering it at all would be enough. She should have known. He was smarter than that.

“Fine,” he laughed. He kissed her temple, just like he had during their first date, and she breathed contentedly. She could get used to the small moments of affection, the strong hands wrapped protectively around hers, and the feeling she got in her stomach when he looked at her.

She stopped in front of her favorite art museum. It was one of the smaller ones in the city and she always felt so at peace when she was inside. She’d been dying to go see their newest exhibit—art depicting Ancient Rome—and she knew Bellamy would appreciate it even if he wasn’t a fan of art.

“Okay, color me surprised,” he said blandly and she shoved him away with her hip before turning toward him and pulling him closer. “Are you here to murder and then skin me?”

She laughed and shook her head. She knew what he meant. The museum was just a small, white brick building. There was no window in the door, no name above it; all there was were a set of numbers for the building’s address. “I promise,” she said and he nodded, looking back at the building behind her. “You ready?”

“Whenever you are,” he said, eyes falling back on her with a smile behind them. She smiled triumphantly and pulled him inside.

She was never good with planning dates. It was one of the reasons she hated dating so much. She’d much rather just sit at a bar and get to know someone without any pressure or makeout with them on her couch. It was easier that way. But, she had to admit, she felt pretty good about her date with Bellamy. Since he’d planned the first one, she’d agreed to plan the next one, and she’d actually been excited about it ever since.

She let go of his hand and let him wander ahead of her once they entered the wing where she wanted to take him. It was right off the entrance, so the walk was short. His eyes widened as he looked around them, taking in the paintings and sculptures. There was a painting of Augustus and Octavia that took up almost an entire wall and his eyes traveled over it so carefully as he blindly reached back for Clarke’s hand. She gave it to him and he pulled her to stand next to him wordlessly.

She looked at him rather than art—something she’d never done before in her life. If she was in an art museum, her eyes never left the pieces. She typically ignored whoever she was with and walked silently from room to room and wing to wing. Not this time, though. She was consumed.

“What do you think?” She asked quietly even though there was a group of people behind them talking loudly and animatedly. She still felt like it was just her and Bellamy.

He answered her with a kiss, letting her hand fall so he could cup her cheeks softly and bring her closer. She smiled against his lips, standing taller so he didn’t have to bend so far, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

\--

As far as second dates went, Bellamy and Clarke’s was one for the books. After he had kissed her in front of that painting—one he’d studied on his lunch break a few days before—he couldn’t stop talking her through the rest of the exhibit. She took it like a champ, way better than Octavia would have. She looked at him and the pieces with a certain mixture of amazement and fondness.

He had no doubt a woman like Clarke knew everything he was telling her already, but she listened happily. And when they were through with that wing and he was all talked out, she led him to her favorite part of the museum. He listened as she went deep into the details and flow of the piece. He watched as her fingers twitched to touch the marble of certain statues. She loved what she was showing him and he could tell that she knew what she was talking about.

“So, what? You’re like an artist _and_ a doctor?” He asked once they walked out into the dark night. His arm was around her shoulders and hers was tucked across his back and they’d just spent the last twenty minutes tangled like that as she spoke about her favorite piece in history.

“I’m not an artist,” she laughed, pushing her hair behind her ear. He didn’t believe her for a second. She couldn’t talk the way she did, knowing what she did, without having some background.

“Not at all?” He asked and she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. “Not even _a little bit_?”

“I paint,” she conceded finally and he thrust his fist in the air triumphantly. She laughed and pushed it back down to his side and he kissed her temple with a smile. “But I am _not_ an artist. I’m a doctor. I made my choice.”

“Who said you needed to choose? Doctors can’t paint in their free time? Do they lose their medical license?” He asked and she laughed again, wrapping her fingers around his that hung over her shoulder.

“I don’t have much free time,” she admitted. “And if you want to get to a third date, I wouldn’t push me to do anything else that could take up what little time I do have. But I really do paint.”

“Well, I would love to see something you’ve painted,” he said into her hair. “Maybe for our third date… Or our fourth.”

“Oh, wow,” she laughed. He could feel it down the side of his own body and he squeezed her hand in return. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you? A _fourth_ date?”

“And then a fifth,” he confirmed smugly. Without looking at her, he could see her headshake from the corner of his eye. “We could just lump our third date in with this one? I’m starving. You?”

“Oh my god, yes,” she said, untangling herself from him so they stopped walking. “But, I think that would still make this our second date. Dinner and drinks on Sunday counted as one, so museum and dinner on Tuesday would count as one. Right?”

Bellamy sighed, tilting his head in thought, and shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he told her and she narrowed her eyes.

“Good, you get to plan the third date,” she smiled and he nodded. “At least the first part.”

“That’s only fair,” he agreed and her smile widened. She looked genuinely excited, but there was something else showing on her face. Nervousness, maybe. “Let’s go eat.”

He took her hand and dragged her around the corner to a small little Italian restaurant. It was a little later, so it was pretty slow and they were able to get a table immediately. She ordered a glass of wine and he ordered a beer and then they were left alone to their own devices until the server came back for their food orders.

She told him about one of her patients that would be leaving the hospital soon. He could see how proud and happy she was about that. He told her about drinks with Lincoln the night before. And she kept a comforting hand on his while he complained again how great he actually seemed. She didn’t laugh at him when he pouted. He appreciated that.

“Can we go back to talking about the third date for a second?” Bellamy asked her and Clarke asked after the server took their food order.

“Um, sure,” she laughed, taking her hand back to run her fingers through her hair. “What about it?”

“Well, my last day of school is Thursday,” he told her and she nodded, crossing her legs under the table. The toe of her shoe ran against his calf and he tried hard to move past in—instead of leaning across the table to kiss her hard like he wanted to. “So, I’m going to be free for a while. What night works best for you?”

“Friday night works for me,” she said with an easy smile and he felt his own lips curling up. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’s called a surprise, Clarke,” he teased her, using her own words against her.

“You are kind of an ass,” she decided, scrunching her nose in fake disgust. “I knew there was a reason I yelled at you in the café.”

Bellamy scoffed with a shake of his head as the server came back with their food. “So what do you do with your free time?” She asked him.

“Hang out with you,” he smirked and she rolled her eyes. “Okay,” he laughed, pulling his chair closer to the table. “Other than reading, which you already knew, I spend a lot of time with my friends, just hanging out. We play cards and, um, watch football. I run when I have time. I hang out with O as much as I can,” he shrugged and she smiled.

“What’s your best friend’s name?”

“Nate Miller,” he said, turning his glass between his hands. “He’s a cop. And who is yours?”

“You met her the other night,” she told him and he remembered the bartender from their first date. “Raven is going to work for NASA one day, I swear. She’s getting her PhD in mechanical engineering and bartending at night. And I told you about Monty and Jasper earlier. They’re crazy, but great. You would love them. All of them.”

“Well, if they’re friends with you, they can’t be terrible,” he said and she bit her bottom lip.

“You say all of the right things. You know that, right? You may hate this dating thing, but you’re surprisingly good at it. I mean, you’re even wearing a tie.”

“I’m only wearing a tie because you mentioned how good I looked in them yesterday,” he laughed and she looked down at her pasta, embarrassed.

“So, you listen, too.”

“I try to,” he said and she nodded. She put her chin in her hand and looked over his face. “What are you looking at?”

“How did you just pop up out of nowhere?” She asked slowly, still looking him over.

“What do you mean? I live around the corner from your apartment. You regularly go to the café where my sister works,” he shrugged. He had to admit, it was weird to him too. Maybe the two of them had passed each other every day over the year he lived in his apartment and he just never noticed her. Once he did see her, though, that was all he saw.

“It’s just really weird that it’s been something like six days and I’ve seen you every day,” she laughed. “And it’s weird that I kind of like it and I like… you.”

“That’s not weird,” he promised. “It’s kind of great. Plus, I liked you too.”

Clarke smiled, biting her lip again, and he finally stood up to lean over the table to kiss her soundly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
